Another Night in Gotham City
by Coin Power
Summary: COMPLETE Someone, or something, is thrashing the labs in Gotham City. Resident Evil-Batman Crossover, Co-written by Peptuck3
1. Prologue

**_Prologue_**

The Gotham City Police entered the building slowly, cautiously, the lights from their flashlights playing across the scene. One officer whistled under his breath, while a second cursed in amazement.   
  
The lobby of the corporation's branch office in Gotham City looked like a war zone. Corpses lay scattered about, lighting fixtures were broken, shattered glass was strewn about the debris littering the floor. Bullet holes stitched the walls, doubtless from the dead security guards and heavily armed SWAT-style response guards the corporation liked to employ.   
  
One officer's boot crunched loudly on a large piece of glass as he crossed the lobby, looking for the attacker. The officer glanced down, and noticed he was standing on top of the corporation's logo, painted on the floor.   
  
It was the top, overhead view of an open, red-and-white umbrella, the symbol of Umbrella Inc.   
  
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Seven guards lined up in the hallway, their guns up and ready. Four of the men were regular security guards, armed only with pistols, but the other three carried submachine guns and body armor, as well as helmets and gas-masks, the typical uniform of Umbrella Inc.'s Secret Security Patrol Team.   
  
The men crouched low to the floor or took cover near convenient doorways as they anticipated the arrival of their target in the elevator ahead. They watched the lights above the elevator blink as the intruder who had shattered the upstairs lobby descended to the basement levels.   
  
The elevator stopped at their level with a cheery "bing!" and the doors slid open.   
  
All seven guards opened fire, pouring bullets into the elevator's open door. They continued firing, bullets stitching the back wall, the steady stream of automatic fire from the submachine guns highlighted by the higher-pitched, intermittent fire of the pistols. After about fifteen seconds, the weapons ran dry, and over a two hundred bullet holes marked the rear wall of the elevator.   
  
But, there was no sign of the intruder.   
  
"Biggs, Wedge, check it out," one of the SSPT troopers ordered, and two of the security guards ran forward to investigate the elevator while the rest of the group inched forward, reloading their guns.   
  
Biggs and Wedge reached the elevator and stepped in, glancing around. They turned around, Biggs shrugging while Wedge opened his mouth.   
  
"Nothing in-" he began to say when a figure dropped down from above, doubtless bracing against the walls overhead in a classic evasion maneuver.   
  
One of the man's hands closed around Wedge's throat, and with a single twist of his wrist he shattered the guard's neck. His other arm closed around Bigg's gun hand and twisted as well, breaking the wrist and dropping the gun. He the grabbed Biggs by the front of his shirt and spun him in front, placing the unfortunate guard right in the path of the incoming bullets from the rest of the guards.   
  
Biggs served as an adequate shield, protecting the intruder from the hail of bullets as the intruder lifted him up. The intruder charged, still holding Biggs off the ground as a gruesome shield against the bullets.   
  
"Grenade!" one guards shouted, pulling a hand grenade off his belt and pulling the pin. The other two SSPT troopers agreed, grabbing their own grenades. As one, they rolled them down the hall at the attacker.   
  
Their attacker responded by dropping Biggs's dead body and by running, fast, directly at the guards, almost covering the distance between them in a second, getting him well out of the range of the fragmentation grenades as they exploded behind him. At this close range, the men could see their attacker's features, making out the smooth, combed-back blonde hair, the cold, aristocratic features, and the reddish glow from behind his sunglasses.   
  
The man proceeded to grab the closest guard's handgun, then spun the man around to act as another shield with his free hand. As the SSPT troopers emptied their magazines into another of their fellow guards-turned-shields, the attacker used his appropriated gun to shoot the remaining security guard. Three shots struck him in the chest as the attacker hurled his dead shield at the armored troopers. The dead body knocked one man down and threw a second off balance, but the third leveled his gun at their attacker.   
  
He responded by jumping forward and sideways, twisting his legs around so they touched against the wall. Then, the man ran on the wall over the heads of the two off-balance guards, his surprising and amazing maneuver catching the remaining guard by surprise and throwing off his aim for a second.   
  
The man dropped down in front of the guard, and grabbed the gun, stripping his foe of his weapon with inhuman strength. He spun around and poured bullets into the two off-balance guards as they were recovering, killing them both, and spun around as the remaining guard scrabbled for his sidearm. Before the man could raise it, the attacker brought his stolen gun down on the man's head, shattering the top of the helmet and bending the butt of the submachine gun at a right angle to its original position. The remaining guard fell like a sack of bricks, his skull shattered.   
  
Their attacker smirked and straightened his sunglasses, the eyes behind them still glowing.


	2. Chapter 1

**_Chapter 1_**

It was another night in Gotham City, and all was quiet. Almost too quiet. Lightning flashed across the skies of Gotham, cutting through the air like a knife. The lightning brightened up the silent darkness of Gotham City for a moment, revealing a muscular, black suited man. He was dressed in a black cloak, a pointed cowl hiding his face and the symbol of a bat on his chest. Batman crouched on the roof of a building, surveying the city with his binoculars. His city. Billionaire owner of Wayne Enterprises by day, Bruce Wayne wandered the rooftops and alleyways by night as Batman, the Dark Knight, self-proclaimed defender of Gotham.  
  
Gotham City, for some reason, had always seemed to attract the worst of the criminals, the vilest of creatures. Psychotic freaks came and went, usually chased away or captured by Batman. For this reason alone, Batman knew he was more than ever needed in this city. Orphaned at a young age, Batman knew the meaning of pain. He remembered that pain, and would do all in his power to stop anyone from knowing that pain.  
  
From his rooftop, Batman spied a mugging in the distance. Taking a running jump from the roof, Batman dropped into a freefall, using his cloak to slow his descent. When he neared the ground, Batman released his grappling hook, which wrapped around the top of a lamppost. Swinging a full round, Batman slammed feet first into the back of the mugger. The surprised thug was sent sprawling a few feet, hitting his head hard on the concrete sidewalk. The man rose to his feet, drawing a gun from his jacket. Before the man could even aim it at Batman, a batarang had knocked it out of his hand. The pistol flew away from the mugger's grasp, landing with a clang on the ground, broken and useless. The thug grabbed a knife that was tied to his leg and charged at Batman, swinging his weapon amateurishly.  
  
When the man came within range, Batman effortlessly dodged the knife strike, strafing to the left. The Dark Knight grabbed the mugger's hand twisted it, making him drop the knife and almost dislocating his wrist.  
  
Giving a cry of pain, the criminal threw a punch at Batman. Catching the punch in his left hand, Batman countered with a swift right hook, followed by an equally fast left hook and finished him off with a side kick to the jaw. The man dropped to the pavement, out cold. Slapping on a pair of handcuffs on the man, Batman looked to the woman to see if she was all right.  
  
"Thank you, Batman." the woman who was being mugged said, gratefully. Batman just nodded his acknowledgement of the gratitude, and shot his grappling hook again, leaping back into the darkness.

  
It had been a long night, and Batman had already stopped a mugging, bank robbery and a rape. It was time for rest, and Batman's body was not as young as it used to be. Jumping of the roof and into an alleyway, Batman disappeared into the shadows and reappeared in his Batcave moments later. As he sat down in his chair in front of his huge computer, Oracle, the ex-Batgirl, appeared on the screen.  
  
"Batman! We have an emergency!"

With those words, Batman immediately sat up, the fatigue already starting to fade away from his body.   
  
"What's the problem, Oracle?" Batman asked.   
  
"There has been a shootout at one of the Umbrella branches. It looks pretty serious" she replied. "I'm sending over some pictures of the crime scene..." Within moments, pictures of the crime scene were displayed on Batman's computer. Corpses were strewn all over the office, tables smashed, lights broken. The equipment on the corpses were no standard issue guns or armor either. These dead guards were not your average policemen. They were trained professionals, probably the best of the best. The way the corpses were laying it looked as if they were attacking one man, who had fought his way through the large numbers. Evidence of one thing: Metahuman activity.  
  
"I'm on my way, Oracle. Research all you can on the Umbrella Inc. The last I heard they were researching something about Super soldiers."  
  
"I'm on it. Oracle, out!" Oracle replied. The beautiful face of Barbara Gordon shrunk rapidly to the middle of the screen, and then vanished into blackness.   
  


Batman had always suspected that the Umbrella Corporation was up to no good. But that was not his concern. If anything, the JLA would handle it. They had not done anything to Gotham City. Up till now. And they would pay. Batman started up the Batmobile, and headed towards the Umbrella branch office at full speed   
  
"Bruce!" a familiar voice said into his headset. Nightwing.   
  
"I have no time now, Dick. Gotham City is in the middle of a crisis." Batman interrupted bluntly. Richard Dick Grayson, aka Nightwing. He was Batman's first disciple, the first Boy Wonder, the first ever Robin. Batman was proud of the kid, even if they did have some differences. Now taking care of his own city of Bludhaven, Batman knew that Nightwing was one of the best.  A teenager able to take down metahumans, freaks and biologically enhanced creatures while possessing no special powers himself was not someone you could bump into on the street. Batman trained Dick himself, and there was no one he loved more in this world.  
  
"I am in Gotham City, Bruce. All the Umbrella branches in Bludhaven have been destroyed, and I have traced the perpetrator down to Gotham city. I don't think you will be able to take him down alone." Batman always prided himself in not needing a sidekick. Tim Drake, the current Robin, had proved him wrong. One too many times, Batman was forced to grudgingly admit.  
  
"No, Dick. Gotham is my city, and I'll take care of it."   
  
"Bruce, I believe by now you have seen the destruction this being can do. Trust me, you could do with help." Nightwing said, the frustration obvious in his voice.   
  
"All right, Nightwing. I'm heading down to the Umbrella Corporation branch office now. Meet you there." Batman said, as he turned a corner.   
  
"Roger that." Nightwing signed out, and speeded up his own vehicle.


	3. Chapter 2

**_Chapter 2_**

  
Batman reached the Branch and hopped out of his Batmobile. Running into the branch, he looked around at the death and chaos. Now he was glad the Nightwing was coming to aid him. This man, or thing would not be easy to take down, judging from what he had already done.   
  
"Batman!" Nightwing called, jumping out of his own mobile that Batman build for him. Codenames were strictly used once they were on the job. Batman would have it no other way.  
  
"Batman, I have found information on the Umbrella Inc..." Oracle's crisp voice said into Batman's headset.   
  
"Broadcast it on Nightwing's headset too. He's here." Batman said, cutting Oracle off.  
  
"Ok, give me a second" flicking a few switches, her voice was heard in Nightwing's radio transmitter hidden in his mask. "Glad to be working with you again, Nightwing."   
  
"Pleasure's all mine." Nightwing replied, smiling.   
  
"Now's not the time, Nightwing." Batman said. There was a little romance budding between the first Robin and Batgirl. Sometimes it was more of a distraction than an asset.   
  
"Batman, Nightwing. This is it. The man causing all that chaos is probably Albert Wesker. He used to be the leader of a unit called S.T.A.R.S. , a special forces unit of the Raccoon Police Department. After some issues with some members of the group, he injected a virus into himself to fake his death. The virus gave him superman abilities, such as superhuman strength and speed. He is also skilled in guns and various martial arts."  
  
Batman and Nightwing looked around the room for a sign of where Wesker had gone. It didn't take long before they noticed a door in the corner of the room. "Staff Only" it said. It was obvious enough where Wesker had gone.   
  
Batman tapped Nightwing on the shoulder, and nodded towards the door. The man in the blue Zorro mask nodded back, and ran towards the door to open it. Nightwing twisted the doorknob… locked. But that's of no concern to Nightwing. Retrieving a wire from his utility belt, the door was soon open, beckoning the heroes in. Nightwing and Batman wasted no time in running quickly but silently down the stairway.   
  
At the bottom of the stairway they found themselves in a dimly lit corridor, the florescent lights flickering eerily overhead. Walking slowly, the sound of their footsteps seemed to be amplified by the silence of the office. Nightwing walked up to the first door on the right. "Holding Room", the sign on the door said. Sounds could be heard from inside the room. Groaning, like that of a dying man. Nightwing took out his wire again, and picked the lock with ease. Turning the doorknob, Nightwing flung open the door.   
  
"ARGH!" Nightwing cried out in surprise, as what used to be a man being grabbed his head, intent on making Nightwing its supper. Grabbing the zombie's arm, Nightwing flung it against the opposite wall. Batman tried to kick the door close, but it was too late. Half a dozen of the creatures had already come out of the room, with about ten more of them walking awkwardly towards them.   
  
"What are these things?" Nightwing muttered, as he tripped another of the zombies, causing it to fall on the floor with a crack. He turned his head, to see the first zombie picking himself up. Its arm was visibly broken, but its face showed no signs of pain.   
  
"I don't know." Batman said, delivering a right hook, knocking a zombie back. These creatures were slow, but they were not reacting to the punches and kicks thrown at them. It was almost as if the pain were of no consequence. They didn't seem human. "Oracle, any information on zombie-like creatures from the Umbrella corporation?"   
  
"I've dug up some information on them already." the Oracle's voice said over both Nightwing's and Batman's headset. "These creatures are the results of a T-virus, a failure in the Umbrella Inc's research for a super soldier serum."   
  
Batman flipped another zombie into a few of its friends, knocking them back. It seemed that no matter what they did, the zombies would just get up again. One was even coming after them while dragging a broken foot along. Nothing they could do, short of killing the creatures, would knock them out. Broken limbs, necks and ribs were not stopping them.  
  
"Dammit! These creatures just won't go down!" Gripping the decomposing hand of the zombie trying to grab him, Nightwing flung the creature away in a masterfully executed Aikido counter. Withdrawing his two escrima sticks, Nightwing started to hit the zombies rhythmically, pounding them like a drummer. Yellow liquid poured from the wounds in the zombies where Nightwing had struck.  
  
"Gross." Nightwing said, doing a back thrust, kicking away the zombie that had just grabbed him from behind in a bear hug. The zombie had had its mouth wide open, its teeth inches away from sinking into the flesh of Nightwing's neck.

"What's up with you people? Umbrella don't feed you enough?" Nightwing grumbled. The yellow 'blood' was smeared all over Nightwing's costume, much to the displeasure of the youth.

  
"Batman, Nightwing. I have more information on them. There is no known cure for these zombies. Once they have been infected with the T-virus, and enough time has passed for the virus to go through their entire system, they are already dead. They are walking dead, Batman."   
  
"We don't have a choice, Batman. You heard Oracle. We have to kill them." Nightwing said, narrowly dodging an attempted bite by another zombie. Batman nodded. He hated killing more than anything else. A life was precious, and should never be taken by another.  However, these creatures no longer had a conscious mind, or a conscience. They needed to be exterminated like the pests they were.

"Batgrenade!", Batman said, shooting his grappling hook to the ceiling. Nightwing immediately followed suit. When both were safely out of range, Batman withdrew a pellet from his belt and dropped it on the clawing hoard.   
  
BOOOM!   
  
The resulting explosion rocked the lab, the fireball created engulfing all on the office floor below. When the smoke cleared, Batman and Nightwing dropped to the floor, landing gracefully. A smell of cooked meat filled the air. Scattered haphazardly around the room were smoldering corpses of zombies, some of them still twitching on the ground.

  
_Clap Clap Clap_  
  
Spinning around, Batman and his young prodigy faced the newcomer.  
  
"Impressive… very impressive." The man said, smiling.  
  
Batman and Nightwing's eyes locked on to the man who had just spoken. His blonde hair was neatly combed back, enhancing his facial features. Wearing a pair of sunglasses and clad in black, the man was an intimidating figure. To some women, he may even be considered attractive. The uniform he wore looked like something a SWAT team member would wear, protecting every part of his body except his well-toned arms.  
  
"Wesker." Nightwing spat in anger and disgust.


	4. Chapter 3

**_Chapter 3_**

"Ah, my reputation precedes me," Wesker replied with a smile. He spoke with a calm, cultured accent, kind of like a snooty upper-class New England-er.   
  
"You must be the legendary Batman," he asked, looking at the dark knight himself. "And you are...Nightwing, correct? Yes, I recall hearing about you while I was in Bludhaven."   
  
"Yeah, I traced you here after you trashed the Umbrella offices in my town," Nightwing replied with a growl. "What did you want there, or here?"   
  
"Oh, well, Umbrella's got their nasty little secrets," Wesker said with a shrug. "And they have competitors in the field of bio-weapons research. You could say I'm doing some...industrial espionage for my new employers."   
  
"It looks more like a military campaign," Batman replied. "You've left a trail of corpses in your path."   
  
"Oh, yes, well," Wesker responded with a smirk. "Collateral damage is accepted and actually encouraged by my employers. We're no friends of Umbrella, after all. But, now my task is done." Wesker patted a pocket. "I have the samples I was looking for in Bludhaven, so I have no reason to be here. However, I would be an idiot to assume you were going to kindly step out of my way, right?"   
  
"You bet," Nightwing responded, raising his escrima sticks. Both he and Batman slid into combat stances, Batman's hands dropping to his utility belt.   
  
"I expected nothing less," Wesker responded with a smile, the red glow of his eyes shining around his shades. "I always wondered how I'd fare against the legendary Batman himself."   
  
Wesker then shot forward unexpectedly. A batarang whipped out at him, and Wesker was barely able to duck under it. He rose up in a spinning kick aimed for Batman's face, but the dark knight leaned back and away. The kick fell short, and Batman countered with a vicious right hook, which smashed Wesker in the face to little effect.   
  
Nightwing came in, his escrima sticks striking in rapid succession. Wesker blocked a few hits, but a series of strikes got through, knocking Wesker's head around a bit, one hit taking his sunglasses off.   
  
As Nightwing struck, Batman spun around, planting a roundhouse kick into Wesker's surprised face, causing him to take a couple of steps back. A pair of escrima sticks smacked into Wesker's side as a second batarang whipped out at him. He was able to deflect the weapon from Batman, only to take another hit across the head from Nightwing.   
  
Wesker spun away, dropping into a crouch, hands up in a guard, a smirk on his face. His eyes, no longer covered by the sunglasses, were revealed to have glowing red irises, with retinas slit like a cat's eyes.   
  
"It seems I underestimated the both of you," he said. One hand rose up, the fingers gesturing for Batman and Nightwing to come on.

Batman saw Wesker's taunt, but paid no attention to it. Villains often taunted him, but it never worked. Attacking in anger could only lead to defeat in most cases. It was even more true when fighting a metahuman skilled in martial arts.  
  
"Nightwing! Go forward, I'll back you up." Batman whispered into his headset. "Your youth and speed will be more of an advantage. Be careful." Nightwing nodded, and charged forward. This man would go down. Nightwing would make sure of it. He had fought worse foes and mutants. Strength could be countered by technique, using it against the aggressor. Aikido had taught him that.   
  
Wesker expected the young black and blue suited hero to attack directly, but Nightwing stopped in front of him instead of charging in blindly. Batman stood some distance behind, face emotionless, not giving any hint of what he planned. Nightwing's face showed the same thing. His eyes were not one of tender teenage years. It showed experience. Way too much experience for someone of such a young age. Wesker readied his stance, as they circled each other.   
  
"HIAA!" Nightwing cried, as he closed the distance in a second and jumped for a Tae Kwan Do 360 kick. Wesker was ready for it this time and ducked, the kick sweeping the air inches about his head. Clenching his fist, Wesker raised it in a strong uppercut towards Nightwing as the boy landed. His fist connected, knocking the youth off his feet. Nightwing fell, and gritted his teeth in pain as the office floor connected with his face.   
  
Batman was not doing nothing while his prodigy fought. Flicking his wrist, Batman launched two batarangs at Wesker in quick succession. Wesker dodged one, but the other hit him in the shoulder, causing a small tear in his flesh. Wesker brought his hand to his wound, before flexing his arms and sneering at Batman.   
  
"Is that the best you can do, Batman?" Wesker scoffed.   
  
Nightwing lifted his body off the ground with his hands, and swung his legs for a quick capoeira sweep. Unaware of the youth, Wesker saw the ground rush up to meet him. Doing a back flip, Nightwing was on his feet in an instant. Wesker was not far behind, rising to a fighting stance. But not for long, as Wesker found he was unable to move his limbs. Batman had released his grappling hook, which had wrapped tightly around Wesker. Nightwing wasted no time, as he picked up his sticks and started pounding Wesker in various places, almost like a dance. Batman was pulling on the grappling hook, tightening the tension of the cord.   
  
"I've had ENOUGH of this NONSENSE!" Wesker shouted, as his muscles bulged. The cords started to snap one after the other under the great strain. Not even feeling the attacks of Nightwing, Wesker ripped free of the cords that bound him. Nightwing lift his hand and swung it in a right hook, but Wesker caught it his left hand. Raising his hand, Wesker threw Nightwing a powerful right hook, knocking Nightwing into a wall twenty feet away. The youth crashed hard into the wall, causing a dent in it before sliding to the ground.  
  
"I've had enough playing. The two of you will rue the day you met up with Albert Wesker." Wesker said, his red eyes glowing eerily.

Immediately after his threat, Wesker charged, covering the distance between himself and Batman in a flash. He spun around in a circle-kick, only to have Batman duck back and away, barely evading the attack. The caped crusader came right in behind the kick, pummeling Wesker with a series of hooks, and uppercut, and a roundhouse kick that caused the not-quite human to fall back.   
  
Batman came in with another kick, but Wesker caught it and sent his left leg low and across, sweeping Batman off his feet.   
  
By that time, Nightwing had recovered from the hit, and charged in at their red-eyed opponent. Wesker responded tot he charge with a swift punch, but Nightwing was expecting the attack and replied with an Aikido counter, catching Wesker's punching hand and spinning around, flipping his foe over and down. Wesker was able to land on his feet, however, and tore free of Nightwing's grasp.   
  
Wesker took two quick steps away from the original Boy Wonder, towards a wall. Nightwing pursued, drawing his escrima sticks as Wesker seemingly boxed himself in against the wall.   
  
But then Wesker leaped up at the wall and kicked off it, spinning around into a flying midair kick aimed for Nightwing's face. He managed to get the escrima sticks up into a block, and the weapons absorbed the brunt of the hit. Still, Nightwing was hurled back by Wesker's strength, slamming into the floor about ten feet away.   
  
"This is getting repetitive," he commented as he got back up.   
  
In the meantime, Batman had snapped out a pair of bolas, the weighted cords wrapping around Wesker's lower legs and tripping the metahuman. He growled and flexed his legs, the corded, superhuman muscles snapping the bolas. He rose to his feet, only to take another kick from Batman in the face.   
  
Wesker spun around with the force of the hit, and added that to his reply, a spinning roundhouse punch that slammed the dark knight in the chest. He flew back, slamming into Nightwing as was finishing standing up.   
  
"I must admit," Wesker stated as both Batman and Nightwing rose. "You are as stubborn as you are stupid."   
  
Batman's reply came in the form of whipping batarangs as Nightwing charged, escrima sticks raised.   
  
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Deep down in the Umbrella Branch Office's subbasement, in a laboratory that Wesker had bypassed in his rampage, a computer activated. There were several beeps and a bloop, followed by a screen lighting up.   
  
**Security Protocol AA-17 activated. Detecting missing samples from Lab 3. Detecting intruders on multiple floors. Initiating emergency security response. Activating Tyrant units. Tyrant units moving to recover lost samples and eliminate intruders.**   
  
Three twelve-foot tall tubes lit up, each containing something that had once been human. Now their skin was a pale white, their left hands replaced with brutal claws. their lips had been cut away, revealing a permanent smile of white teeth. Their muscles were corded and built, artificially enhanced by Umbrella's scientists. A pulsing, reddish tumor, the heart of each of the super soldiers, began beating.   
  
They were Tyrants, Umbrella's finest work, the ultimate biological killing machines. Each Tyrant's eyes opened, and they knew their orders.   
  
The glass tubes holding the nine-foot tall weapons of death did not open, so they proceeded to break free. Their fists and clawed arms smashed the tubes, and they stepped out. Immediately, their unnatural senses detected the intruders and the lost samples. Like giant, emotionless machines, the three Tyrants set about their business.


	5. Chapter 4

**_Chapter 4_**

Wesker dodged the first Batarang, and swatted the second aside with ease. Nightwing charged in, escrima sticks in a blur as he rained blow after blow upon Wesker. Every blow was either parried and block by the man, or had no effect when it connected.

  
"Nightwing," the voice of Batman echoed in Nightwing's headset. "We cannot beat him on sheer strength and speed alone. Everything we can throw at him, he is able to surpass it." Batman jumped into the fight, grabbing Wesker from the back in a firm head lock. "I'm calling for backup."   
  
Nightwing wasted no time, striking Wesker on various places from the neck to the groin and knees. A normal person would be out of action by now. Wesker, however, was no normal person.   
  
"Oracle, we need backup. I need you to call Robin and Batgirl here immediately." Batman said trying his best to keep Wesker in his grasp.   
  
Raising his muscled arms, Wesker broke Batman's grip, and grabbed his head. He threw Batman into a door a few feet away, breaking it in two. Batman groaned as he got up, and charged in once again to battle. But this gave Nightwing just enough time to execute a Brazilian Jiu-jitsu move. Before he knew what had just happened, Wesker was no longer standing. His arm was held behind his back, his body pinned painfully to the ground. Batman grabbed a nearby chair and slammed it hard onto Wesker's head, breaking the wooden furniture into smithereens.   
  
At this, Wesker just growled and flipped Nightwing off his back and onto the floor. Wesker was on top of Nightwing this time, ready to rain blows to the superhero's head. Batman quickly did a turning kick, followed by a powerful back thrust, knocking Wesker off Nightwing.

  
Jumping high into the air, the youth did a double back flip and landed hard on Wesker's chest, finally getting a groan out of the man.   
  
"Flash!" Batman yelled, as he rolled a pellet towards Wesker, turning to hide behind his cloak. Nightwing did his signature quadruple somersault, landing on a table about thirty feet away, his back to Wesker as the pellet exploded. For a fleeting second the room was exploded with a blaze of dazzling light, temporarily blinding the metahuman.   
  
Somersaulting back to Wesker, Nightwing flipped the blinded man on the ground once again in a Judo throw. Raising his sticks high, Nightwing brought his two sticks down hard onto the man's throat, causing the man to mutter an audible sign of pain. Batman flicked another two batarangs at Wesker, both of which embedded themselves into Wesker's mid-section. Wesker groaned in pain, as blood rushed to his head in anger.

  
Partially regaining his sight, Wesker stood up swung wildly at the shadow of Nightwing, who just flipped him again onto the ground, hitting him hard on each temple with his sticks. Batman had closed the distance again, and performed a lethal karate chop to Wesker's throat.   
  
Bringing his legs up, Wesker kicked Nightwing hard in the chest, knocking him into the same wall Nightwing had landed on previously, breaking it and causing Nightwing to fall into the room behind it. Batman's backhand knocked him to the ground again as Wesker tried to get up. Wesker was pissed, and it showed in his eyes. Absorbing the punches and kicks Batman threw at him, Wesker grabbed Batman by the throat.   
  
"You have been _annoying_, Batman, and its time this ended." Just as Wesker was about to break Batman's neck, a clawed hand grabbed him by the shoulders and flung him into Nightwing, knocking them both to the ground. Nightwing muttered a multitude curses under his breath, before throwing Wesker off him and somersaulting away to another table.   
  
Batman looked at the creature that had probably just saved his life, and saw death. In more ways than one.

Wesker rose to his feet and froze. A momentary flash of memory - that of being impaled on a set of claws - and an ache in his chest heralded the arrival of the Tyrant, almost identical to the one that had "killed" him in the Spencer mansion. He watched the huge, white-skinned death machine towering over Batman. The thing's soulless gaze tracked the Caped Crusader as it took a step forward.   
  
And then it changed direction, veering towards Wesker.   
  
_Hell! The samples!_   
  
The damn thing must be after the samples Wesker had stolen. Somehow, Wesker must have missed the labs the Tyrants were being stored in. Stupid, stupid.   
  
The Tyrant took another giant step towards Wesker, its face betraying no emotion, its teeth in a mirthless, eternal smile. Wesker heard cursing beside him, and glanced that way to see Nightwing watching the Tyrant in awe as it calmly marched forward. Wesker snapped his gaze back to the Tyrant as it took another step, and realized that the Umbrella bio-weapon was close. Very close. Too close.   
  
The thing was within forty feet of Wesker when its calm stride transformed, shifting into a fluid and silently terrifying charge. The Tyrant rippled forward, covering the distance between itself and Wesker in a matter of a second or so, its clawed forearm cocked back as if throwing underhanded-   
  
-and Wesker dove away, his superhuman reflexes getting him past the Tyrant's claws, and he snapped right back around, sending a concrete-busting side kick to the bio-weapon's gut. The Tyrant took a step to the side, absorbing the shock, and then spun, its forearm smashing across in a backhand that connected with Wesker's side, hurling him back and through another wall.   
  
Wesker rose, shaking his head as he did so. He glanced at Batman and Nightwing, but only for a second before returning his gaze to the soulless death machine that was the Tyrant. The dark knight and his prodigy were nothing compared to the Tyrant, by Wesker's estimation. What could mere humans do against these things?   
  
Wesker then recalled what he'd heard and seen before. Chris Redfield and his merry S.T.A.R.S. team had killed the Tyrant in the Specer mansion with a rocket launcher. There had been other instances of Tyrants going down to mere humans as well, such as the one that had been running loose in Birkin's lab the day before the Spencer incident, and the ones roaming Raccoon City, or the one on Rockfort Island...though those had demanded extreme firepower.*   
  
But all Wesker had were his fists. Well, he thought as he clenched them, they would have to be enough.   
  
The Tyrant took another step towards Wesker when a volley of whipping Batarangs struck it, burying themselves into the bio-weapon's chest and shoulders. The Tyrant turned, its eyes focusing on Batman and Nightwing. It took a step towards them, much to Wesker's relief. He smiled and saluted the foolish hero and his prodigy.   
  
"Thanks for buying my escape!" Wesker shouted, turning to run.   
  
And the wall next to him exploded, hurling him off his feet. Wesker looked up at the source of the explosion-   
  
-and the ache came back as he saw not one, but _two_ more Tyrants standing in the gaping hole in the wall. They raised their clawed forearms and advanced like death.

The two heroes watched as the Tyrant took another menacing step towards them. Of course, they could have stepped aside as Wesker got slapped around by the Tyrants. But neither Batman nor Nightwing could find it in them to leave Wesker alone. No man, villain or otherwise, deserves to die. And besides, these Tyrants could wreck havoc on Gotham city. Batman would never allow that.   
  
"Nightwing, no way we can take these things on hand to hand." Batman said, rolling a pellet towards the approaching Tyrant. "Best we end this ASAP." Batman and Nightwing somersaulted away as the Batgrenade exploded right underneath the Tyrant, rocking the building in a huge explosion. Batman and Nightwing watched as the smoke began to clear.   
  
"Da-yam! A Batgrenade right under the bugger, and he's still standing!" Nightwing exclaimed, as the Tyrant took another step towards them. Aside from its skin smoldering, it seemed to suffer no other ill effects.   
  
_CRASH!_   
  
Batman and Nightwing looked up to see a bruised Wesker fly upwards, and seemed to be flat on the ceiling for a whole second, before he fell to the ground with a crack, the Tyrants only a few feet away.   
  
"No time for him." Batman muttered, as he dodged a clawed strike. He could hear Nightwing pounding hard with his escrima sticks on the Tyrant's back. The Tyrant swung around, knocking the annoying human away. Nightwing flew twenty feet, landing sprawled on the ground. Batman took this moment to deliver a flurry of punches and kicks to the midsection of the Tyrant, but it was all in vain. With a swing of its arm, the Tyrant knocked Batman to the ground. The Tyrant raised its claw and swung it, its goal being to remove the head of the Dark Knight himself.   
  
A crack was heard as the Tyrant's arm was knocked away by a batarang. Before it knew what had happened to it, it was hit with another stream of batarangs, before being thrown against the wall. Only one person could throw a Tyrant of that weight with such speed and power. Correction, only one girl.

"Sorry about taking so long." Robin smiled, Batgirl next to him. The four members of the Batclan took their places around the Tyrant, readying their stances.  
  
"You're going down!" Nightwing yelled, charging in with his escrima sticks, soon followed by the other three.

*References to various Resident Evil games that featured Tyrants. The Spencer mansion was RE1, Birkin's lab was RE0, Raccon City was RE2 and 3, and Rockfort Island was Code Veronica.


	6. Chapter 5

**_Chapter 5_**

Wesker leaped over the first Tyrant's attacking claws, landing nimbly on his feet and delivering a devastating backwards kick that took the Tyrant in the lower back. Wesker then had to dive aside as the second charged him, the sharpened claws missing him by inches. Wesker countered with two swift punches, then an uppercut.   
  
Then the first Tyrant smacked him across the head with a backhand, hurling him up and away. Wesker saw the ceiling coming a second before it connected with his face. He then felt the floor connect with his back as he fell. Shakily, the red-eyed man stood, then hurled himself aside as one of the Tyrants charge. Its claws raked the floor beneath Wesker, tearing up gouges in the ceramic plates.   
  
Wesker leaped up into the air, his right leg coming around in a swift kick that would have bent metal bars. His foot met the Tyrant's face, and it was forced to step back several huge steps to absorb the impact.   
  
Then the second was charging, its arm shooting across and swatting Wesker hard enough to send him through a wall. Wesker continued to fly, shattering glass beneath him and rolling off a table. He quickly stood back up, clenching his teeth.   
  
No, it wasn't going to end like this. Losing to a pair of mindless Tyrants? No damn way! He was Albert goddamn Wesker!   
  
Wesker scanned the room, realizing he was in a medical bay. He then smiled.   
  
"You ugly bastards want the samples?" he asked the two hulking Tyrants as they slowly, calmly walked toward the hole he'd flown through. Wesker snatched up a syringe and took out one of the vials of Umbrella's latest concoction.   
  
"Then you'll have them!"   
  
The Tyrants were the result of a combination of T-virus research and also an unusual parasitic creature created by Umbrella's Paris labs. This parasite was called the Nemisis parasite, and was one of the reasons why Tyrants even existed at all. However, the Nemisis parasite had the sad tendency to consume and kill its host within a matter of months without constant injections and upkeep.   
  
The vials of samples in Wesker's pocket were a special Umbrella concoction, a virus that reacted in response to the Nemisis parasite in each Tyrant's body. The anti-Nemisis had the lovely trait of dramatically increasing the Nemisis parasite's consumption of its host's body. Whereas before, it took months for the Tyrant to die, when the virus was injected, it would over clock the Tyrant's and the parasite's metabolism to the point where, within minutes, the body ran out of energy and was forced to feed on itself to continue surviving. Within moments after that process began, the body would break down and die.   
  
In short, the samples Wesker held caused a Tyrant to literally starve to death in minutes.   
  
Wesker filled the syringe and held it up. Normally, he'd squeeze it a bit to get the air bubbles out, but right now, Wesker didn't really care about that. He looked up as the two Tyrants hulked into the medical bay. Only enough time to fill the one syringe. Well, that was fine. Wesker could take a Tyrant one-on-one.   
  
The Tyrants charged, knocking over medical equipment and tables, sending glass and delicate instruments flying. Wesker leaped aside, then kicked off a wall and into the air, directly over one of the pale-skinned death machines. He landed lithely on one of the Tyrants' shoulders, and jabbed the syringe into its neck. The virus poured into the Tyrant's blood, working immediately.   
  
The Tyrant thrashed, its normal right arm flying up over its shoulder, slamming Wesker with incredible force in the shoulder and hurling him away once more. He slammed through a wall and rolled over, pain shooting through his left arm.   
  
"Shit," he muttered, realizing his mistake.   
  
He'd been so focused on the "Tyrant dying" aspect to remember the whole report about the anti-Nemisis virus. While the Tyrant was infected and its metabolism was over clocked, its physical power was increased ten times over and more. Furthermore, the Tyrant went totally berserk. Wesker watched as the uninfected Tyrant was suddenly tossed off its feet. The infected, berserk Tyrant fell on it. Clawed arms slashing while its fists pounded.   
  
Within moments, the berserk Tyrant had torn its brother apart, and then spun towards Wesker.   
  
Wesker shakily rose to his feet, clutching his left arm. Broken. The damn Tyrant had broken his arm with its sheer strength. He spared a glance at Batman and his comrade, to see the rest of that merry crew had arrived. Joy. Hopefully the berserk Tyrant would notice them first.   
  
But the Tyrant remained focused on Wesker, and as it charged, Wesker realized that though the Tyrant would break down in minutes, those were minutes he didn't have.

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It wasn't often that the whole Batclan was together to fight a common foe. Ever since Nightwing moved on to Bludhaven due to differences with the Dark Knight, the Batclan had been missing the original Boy Wonder. And there was no better time than now for a little family reunion.   
  
"Take turns," Batman said, slashing the Tyrant's back with his Batarang, and rolling out of the way before the Tyrant could smack him any further. "It can't take us all at once." The rest of the Batclan nodded, as Batgirl delivered a two sharp jabs and a triple side kick to the Tyrant's head. Robin soon followed up with a few turning kicks when the Tyrant turned its attention to Batgirl. Nightwing was soon on the Tyrant's case as he pounded hard with his escrima sticks.   
  
Now with the rest of the Batclan here, Batman could turn his attention back to Wesker. He was just in time to see Wesker slammed through another wall by a Tyrant.   
  
Wait... just one? Batman scanned the room for the other, finally noticing it in the corner, body maimed beyond recognition. Then Batman noticed something different about the other Tyrant. It was moving fast. Much too fast.   
  
"We have to bring down this Tyrant now." Batman said through his headset as he dodged the Tyrant's clawed hand. "We don't know when it will go berserk like the one currently thrashing Wesker." Then an idea came to Batman. Or rather, he remembered something from the movie Armageddon. When you detonate an explosive in the palm of your hand, all you get are a few burns. But when you clench your fist and detonate an explosive in it...   
  
"At the count of three, release all your grappling hooks on it." Batman commanded. The other three members of the Batclan knew better than to disagree.   
  
"One... Two... Three!"   
  
Nightwing somersaulted away from engaging the Tyrant in hand to hand, and released his grappling hook in the air, at the same moment that the rest launched theirs. The four strong cords swung around the surprised Tyrant, immobilizing it for a moment. Just enough time for Batman to pry open its mouth with a batarang and drop two batgrenades down its throat.   
  
"RUN!" Batman yelled, as he ran away from the Tyrant. Nightwing, Robin and Batgirl followed suit, as the Tyrant exploded from within, sending chunks of charred flesh flying all over the room.


	7. Chapter 6

**_Chapter 6_**

Wesker was in midair as the explosion occurred, showering him with bits of gore and flesh from the exploding Tyrant. The metahuman slammed into he ground a moment later, courtesy of one of berserk Tyrant's slams.   
  
Wesker rose quickly, to see the berserk Tyrant charging once more, even faster than he could move. Its clawed arm slashed, and Wesker went flying again, this time accompanied by another sharp pain in his left leg. Unfortunately, he landed on that leg as he hit the floor, sending a stunning blast of suffering up his leg.   
  
"Broken," he muttered as he tried to rise, only to not be able to. Wesker glanced up at the berserk Tyrant as it spun towards him. It was then that he realized that the next charge would finish him, the Tyrant's claws tearing him apart. Frantically, Wesker scanned the area for something, anything he could use as a weapon.   
  
Wesker spotted a corpse nearby, not a zombie but a truly dead man, clad in the armor and helmet of an Umbrella Secret Security Patrol Team officer. He was still clutching his submachine gun.   
  
"I need this more than you do," Wesker muttered, prying the weapon loose from the corpse as the Tyrant charged again. He spun the submachine gun around and opened fire.   
  
The steady chatter of the submachine gun was accompanied by bursts of blood from the berserk Tyrant's body as it took the automatic fire to its chest. Rapidly, the thing's torso went from white to a mixture of white and red as tiny rivers of blood trickled down its length. But if the Tyrant felt it, it didn't show it.   
  
Wesker shifted his aim, pointing the submachine gun higher. Rounds walked their way up the Tyrant's torso until they began taking the monster in the neck. One bullet struck it in the mouth, knocking several teeth loose. That must have gotten its attention; the tyrant flinched for a moment, stopping in place for a second.   
  
Then the submachine gun ran dry, and Wesker tossed it aside. He turned to the dead SSPT trooper and grabbed his sidearm as the tyrant roared and began to charge.   
  
Wesker felt a moment of appreciation at the soldier's fine choice of weaponry; it was a .50AE Desrt Eagle, a very nice, and very powerful, handgun. Hopefully it could stop this thing . . . .   
  
The Eagle jumped in Wesker's hands as he fired, and the heavy magnum rounds tore into the Tyrant. Its stopped momentarily, seeming surprised at the power in that huge handgun, and Wesker pointed the Eagle up higher, centering it on the tyrant's face.   
  
_Eyes, go for the eyes!_   
  
Wesker fired in rapid succession, six more magnum rounds punching into the Tyrant's face, blood flying everywhere. The monster roared, and began thrashing about mindlessly. Fountains of blood erupted from its face, and more importantly, from its eyes. Even if Wesker had failed to hit the eyes, the monster was likely blinded by its own blood.   
  
Satisfied that the Tyrant was stopped for now, Wesker began to crawl away as quickly as he could.

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Batman and the rest of the Batclan managed to run far enough from the Tyrant to evade the effects of the explosion, but were still splattered by the smoldering flesh.   
  
"Damn. Now I gotta pay another trip to the drycleaners..." Nightwing grumbled, as he brushed away the stains on his suit and wiped his hands on Robin, who slapped him on the back of the head.   
  
"Stop it." Batman snapped. Nightwing and Robin obeyed immediately. No one likes to piss off the Dark Knight, especially not on the job.

  
"So should we attack now?" Batgirl asked, as Wesker flew yet again from a blow from the Tyrant.   
  
"No." Batman replied. "Even the four of us may be unable to take them both down at the same time."   
  
"We got to let them beat the crap out of each other first." Nightwing continued happily. The Batclan watched as Wesker struggled to rise, the supercharged Tyrant still charging towards him.   
  
"Wait for my signal." Batman told his clan. Batman was about to command a charge when Wesker grabbed a submachine gun from a corpse and opened fire on the Tyrant. Although its body had changed color, it showed no signs of slowing down. The constant stream of machine gun fire could be heard as Wesker emptied round after round into the Tyrant.   
  
When the machine gun ran out of ammunition, Batman watched to see what Wesker had up his sleeve next. Batman did not wanting to interfere until he was sure they had done as much damage to each other as possible.  
  
Wesker grabbed a handgun and fired straight into the face of the Tyrant at point blank range, sending blood spraying all over the place. The Tyrant began to thrash wildly, breaking tables, chairs and computers in its way. In the corner of his eye, Batman spied Wesker crawling away from the chaos.   
  
"Bring the creature down. I'm going for Wesker." Batman ran after Wesker, as the rest of the Batclan surrounded the Tyrant. Batgirl went in, flipping the huge killing machine onto the ground, and pinned it to the ground with the aid of Robin as Nightwing dropped a Batgrenade down its throat.   
  
"SCRAMBLE!!!" Nightwing yelled, as he somersaulted away from the exploding Tyrant. Robin and Batgirl did the same, as once again another Tyrant exploded from the inside.   
  
_BANG!_   
  
Batman's scream pierced the cold night air at the same moment that the gunshot rang.  
  
"NOOO!!" Nightwing shouted, when he turned towards the sound of the gunshot, to see Batman lying on the ground, blood trickling from his head.

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Wesker ran. Well, no, it couldn't accurately be called a "run". It was more of a "really fast hobble punctuated by falling down and cursing." The injured man still clutched the Desert Eagle, and laughed at how fortune had blessed him today. Not only had he survived three Tyrants and was escaping with the samples, but Batman himself was dead. Or, at least, Wesker hoped so; that gunshot wound looked pretty nasty, though the pain Wesker was in now had thrown his aim off somewhat.   
  
But Wesker had no illusions as to his safety. With the Tyrants dead there was nothing between him and the remainder of Batman's little band. He'd had enough trouble with just Batman and Nightwing. Nightwing combined with Robin and Batgirl would be too much for the injured Wesker to handle. He needed to lose them.   
  
"Noooo!" came a cry from behind, and Wesker smiled again. Doubtless the intrepid heroes had found their fallen leader. Wesker hurried on, falling down again and cursing.   
  
Then, he heard the sound of pounding feet. Damn. Likely Nightwing and his cronies. Wesker had to lose them. But where?   
  
The zombies! Yes! That would be perfect. There was a zombie containment room just ahead. He'd simply open the doors and let the virus carriers have fun with Batman's people.   
  
Wesker rounded a corner, smiling at the thought of unleashing the zombies. Once they were loose, he'd just need to get to the elevator and get to the roof. A helicopter was waiting for his signal, and-   
  
-Wesker was shocked out of his thoughts as a zombie fell on him. Crap! He'd forgotten; the containment doors had been left open already!   
  
Wesker batted the carrier away, grimacing as a wave of stench washed over him. He saw more of the undead, turning to face him down the corridor. Another lurched for Wesker, and he punched it hard in the face, smashing its skull into mush as it flew back into several more zombies.   
  
More lurched forward, and growling, Wesker fired his handgun, blowing apart their skulls with the Desert Eagle's heavy slugs. He managed to clear a path, and was acutely aware that the pounding of chasing feet were behind him as he hobbled through, almost falling again. The wall of undead closed around him, attempting to swallow the injured man in their midst, when he broke free and escaped. The pitiful wailing of the hungry zombies could be heard behind him, followed by immense cursing as Nightwing, Robin, and Batgirl found the undead between them and their murderous quarry.   
  
Wesker reached an elevator at the end of the hall, and turned back the see the Batclan round the corner. He spotted them just over the heads of the zombies as the undead attacked. Wesker saluted them with his good arm, smiling as the elevator descended. With another cheery "bing!" the doors opened, and Wesker moved to escape. The doors closed, and the elevator began to ascend.


	8. Chapter 7

**_Chapter 7_**

Nightwing, Robin and Batgirl rushed to Batman's side, hoping against hope for any sign of life. There was none. No breathing, no pulse. Nothing.   
  
"NO! I won't accept this! Bruce, you can't die!" Nightwing cried, cradling Batman's head in his arms. "What will happen to me? What will happen to Gotham City?"   
  
Nightwing hugged Batman's still body close. "You can't die this way. Not by a psycho who has broken limbs. You're Batman. You've beaten villains much worse than Wesker." Nightwing sobbed. "You've beaten Superman for goodness sake!"   
  
"Nightwing," Robin said, eyes tearing. "We have to catch the guy that did this. We will avenge him, Nightwing. We have to." As much as Timothy Drake loved Bruce Wayne, he knew that Bruce meant ten times as much to Dick Grayson.   
  
"Robin's right." Batgirl said, wiping a tear from Nightwing's face. "We can't let Wesker escape while we grieve for Batman."   
  
"DAMN RIGHT I WON'T!" Night shouted, getting up. "Wesker will pay! No one, and I mean NO ONE, will be able to kill Batman and get away with it. Not when I'm still breathing!"   
  
Robin nodded, smiling a little. "That's the spirit. Now lets get going." Nightwing and Batgirl nodded grimly, as they ran after Wesker.   
  
Turning a corner, the three young prodigies of Batman ran smack into a hoard of zombies   
  
"What the hell! Not these guys again!" Nightwing muttered, throwing a zombie aside, knocking a few others down. Batgirl had already taken out half a dozen zombies with fatal kicks, chops and punches, the mangled bodies scattered around her. Robin was surviving just as well, with three zombies out of action.   
  
_Bing_   
  
The remaining frontline members of the Batclan turned to the sound, eyes locking onto Wesker as he saluted them mockingly, a satisfied smirk on his face.   
  
"Outside… We have climb to the top of the building." Nightwing said, swinging his sticks around, knocking away all zombies from him. Somersaulting upwards, Nightwing did a triple somersault, landing briefly on the shoulders of a few zombies before launching up again in another somersault, landing at the base of the stairs leading out of the lab. Batgirl and Robin watched the powerful display of agility, before releasing their grappling hooks and swinging over the heads of the zombies and landing beside Nightwing.   
  
"You know, Nightwing," Robin said, as they ran up the stairs. "You always choose the most difficult way to do everything."   
  
"That's because I can, Robin." Nightwing laughed, running out of the Umbrella branch. The joke managed to ease the tension in the air. Something Nightwing was grateful for. "Ok, up we go!"   
  
Nightwing, Robin and Batgirl simultaneously released their grappling hooks, which flew almost out of sight to the top of the Umbrella branch skyscraper. Batman had designed the grappling hooks to be able to reach the top tallest buildings in the world, and it was a good time as any to use that feature. The grappling hooks did their work, and Nightwing, Robin and Batgirl were on their way up about a hundred floors at full speed. Reaching the top, the three young heroes jumped over the railing and onto the helicopter pad. Just in time to see Wesker board a Helicopter twenty feet away.   
  
"So long, suckers!" Wesker laughed, as the Helicopter lifted off the ground. "Looks like the bad guys win this time!"   
  
"Over my dead body!" Nightwing mumbled, as he took out his grappling hook. "Robin, you and me use our grappling hooks to get ourselves up to the helicopter. You go for the pilot, try to land back on the helipad. Batgirl, you wait here, I'll try to knock Wesker out of the helicopter. Even with an arm and a leg broken, we'll need you to pin him down so we can cuff him." At this, Robin and Batgirl nodded. Without wasting another second, Nightwing and Robin fired their grappling hooks at the ascending helicopter, the strong cords wrapping around its metal skids. Nightwing and Robin shot into the air, dragged along by the helicopter.  
  
"Those goody-two-shoes superheroes. With skills like that, they can do so much more." Nightwing and Robin heard Wesker say as they climbed onto the skids of the helicopter, hair flying in the wind.   
  
_At the count of three_ Nightwing mouthed. _One.. Two... Three_   
  
Nightwing and Robin burst into the helicopter at the same time, surprising all that were in the helicopter.   
  
"You again!" Wesker shot a look at Nightwing. If looks could kill, Nightwing would be nothing but a pile of bones right now. Robin grabbed the guy sitting next to Wesker hit his face twice with a jab, then knocked him out with a powerful right hook. Nightwing went straight for Wesker, kicking him on the chin with a front kick before striking him rapidly with his escrima sticks.   
  
By now, Robin had knocked out the pilot with a quick chop to the neck, and was now flying the helicopter back to the helicopter pad.   
  
Wesker sneered, and swung his good arm at Nightwing. Nightwing raised both sticks to parry it in time, but the force of the blow forced him out of the helicopter.

Dick Grayson grew up in a family of acrobats. He was no stranger to bars, and his agility was like no other. Nightwing gripped the right skid of the helicopter with his feet. He swung downwards, then upwards again. Nightwing let go just as his body was almost horizontal, and grabbed the left skid of the helicopter with his hands.   
  
"NIGHTWING!" Robin shouted, as he saw Nightwing fly out of the Helicopter.   
  
"Your friend is gone, Robin." Wesker whispered into Robin's ear, gun at his temple. "Now if you would be so kind as to fly me to..." Wesker was cut off in mid sentence, as Nightwing swung upwards from the helicopter skid, and crashed feet first into Wesker.   
  
"We're on top of the helicopter pad, Nightwing!" Robin said, over the whirr of the helicopter blades. Nightwing nodded, and kicked out with both legs, knocking Wesker out of the helicopter and down to the waiting Batgirl. Robin landed the helicopter, and came out with Nightwing, finding Wesker pinned to the ground by Batgirl. His broken arm was lying useless on the floor, good arm held behind his back. Nightwing walked up to him and went down on one knee, looking Wesker straight in the eye.   
  
"Nobody kills Batman and gets away with it. Nobody." Batgirl forced Wesker into a standing position. Wesker winced in pain, then started to laugh, causing Nightwing to slap him across the face.   
  
"What's so funny?" Nightwing asked, his blood starting to boil. If it could get any hotter than it already is. This man had impudence like no other.   
  
"You know what's so funny?" Wesker said, grinning evilly. "I killed the legendary Batman. The Dark Knight himself. Something countless villains have been unable too. And it was just too easy. Your friend's.. what should I call it.. _righteousness_ brought him down. He had a chance to kill me, but he didn't. Big mistake."  
  
_"Wesker, you are coming with me." Batman said, taking out his cuffs. Spotting Wesker lifting up his gun, Batman flicked his wrist, sending a Batarang flying towards Wesker's hand, knocking the Desert Eagle away. __  
  
"I hate guns, Wesker. Best you learn that." Batman towered over the fallen Wesker now, Batarang in each hand. "One move, Wesker.." Batman warned.   
  
Is this how the mighty Wesker will be going down? Wesker sighed. Things were all going to plan. No way was he going to spend the rest of his life rotting in some prison full of low lifes.. Then Wesker spotted something at the corner of his eye. A few feet away lay a beaker of acid, probably fallen off the shelf during the scuffle with the Tyrants. Now, if only he could get closer..   
  
"I'm sorry, Batman. I really am." Wesker edged closer to the acid. "I'll go with you quietly. Just don't hurt me. Please." Yes.. the beaker.   
  
"Enough of this, Wesker. Get up, and lets go." Batman readied himself for something. When villains did something like this, they always had something up their sleeve. Always.   
  
"My leg is broken. Can you help me get up?" Wesker asked, holding his hand up. Just as Batman extended his arm..   
  
"Go to hell Batman!" Wesker growled, as he flung the beaker of acid at Batman. Ready for it, Batman lifted his cloak. The acid, unable to eat into Batman's cloak, just flowed onto the floor. Even with his broken limbs, Wesker managed to dive towards his gun, turn and shoot at Batman. And at that range, Wesker could not, and would not miss. With a cry, Batman crumpled to the floor._   
  
"Shut up!" Nightwing smacked Wesker across the face with his escrima stick, hard. Wesker just smirked, but he went quiet. "You're going straight to Arkham Asylum." Nightwing said through clenched teeth, handcuffing Wesker.   
  
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Dick Grayson entered the white, towering Cathedral, just in time to hear the reverend start the service. Barbara Gordan, or the Oracle, had done her job. Bruce Wayne had officially died of a mugging by an unknown criminal. Dick was grateful for Barbara's skills. Bruce, even in death, would never want his identity revealed.   
  
"We are gathered here today in remembrance of one of the greatest members of society." the white suited reverend spoke grimly. "Bruce Wayne was an outstanding citizen, and the things he did for Gotham City will always stay in our minds. Bruce Wayne Enterprises have done more good than any other company in the world. Right now, we'll like to invite Bruce Wayne's adopted son, Richard Grayson to say a few words." the reverend stepped down from the pulpit, and motioned for Dick to go up. Reluctantly, Dick moved from his seat and approached the pulpit.   
  
"I never expected to be standing here before you. I mean, Bruce always said the day I would be in front of a church it would be in a coffin." Dick said, smiling. Soft, nervous laughter rang throughout the Cathedral. Looking around, Dick noticed many familiar faces. Tim Drake, was here with his parents. Barbara Gorden was sitting with her father, James Gorden, the police commissioner of Gotham City. Cassandra Cain, the current Batgirl was there too, sitting way in the back. But the face that caught his eye was that of Clark Kent. Superman. Dick always knew the love hate relationship between Batman and Superman, and was glad to see Superman coming to pay his last respects. Clark nodded when his eyes met Dicks. Dick smiled back, and cleared his voice before speaking again.   
  
"Bruce Wayne was more than a father to me. I will always remember the day he took me in."   
  
_"Alfred! Clear the guestroom. This mansion will have a new resident." Batman said, arm around a young Dick Grayson. __  
  
"But Bruce, you may be able to fight supervillians, but raising a child is just not you cup of tea. You don't know the first thing about bringing up children." Alfred replied shaking his head.   
  
"This child," Batman said, eyes piercing through Alfred, "Has lost both his parents in an act of sabotage. He has nobody."   
  
"But you are not ready to be a father, Bruce. You aren't even married."   
  
"I will learn."_   
  
Dick sighed and continued, "Bruce took me in, even if he did not have to. Even though he almost never smiled, I knew how much he cared."   
  
_Bruce ran into the room, where Dick had just vomited all over the floor. __  
  
"Are you all right, Dick?" The usual emotionless face of Bruce Wayne was not filled with concern.   
  
"I'm fine, I can get up on my own.." Dick said, before going into another coughing fit.   
  
"You are not going anyway. Alfred! Call the doctor now! You are staying in bed!"_   
  
"He taught me everything I knew. More than any of you will ever know."   
  
_"Dick! Anger will never get you anywhere. Not if you want to avenge your parents." Bruce said, tripping a charging and screaming Dick. Bruce Wayne never went easy during a sparring session. __  
  
"I am so going to KILL the people that killed my parents!" Dick said, getting up again. "You have to teach me how!"   
  
"Violence is not the answer to all problems, Dick." Bruce said, dodging a blow from Dick. "It is a last resort. You need a clear mind to be able to fight without mistakes." Bruce caught a punch from Dick, and threw him onto the mat, pinning him down in a Judo arm lock.   
  
"Remember this, Dick." Batman whispered, his face inches away from Dick's. "The people we are taking down will not always be human. We are not Supermen. We will bleed. Our bones will break. Make a mistake, and it could be the end. When we go out to fight, never, ever kill the people we capture, no matter the circumstances. The fate of these people are not ours to decide."_   
  
"I will never forget him. Bruce Wayne made me the man I am today." Dick said a tear running down his cheek. "I can only hope I will be able to make him proud." Barbara Gordan wiped a tear from her eye, the rest of the Batclan on the verge of tears. The reverend went back to the pulpit and began to speak, but Dick was not listening anymore.   
  
At the end of the service, Dick left to go back to the empty mansion.   
  
"Dick." Dick turned around, to see Clark Kent.   
  
"Your father was a good man, I have great respect for him. His wish was to see Gotham City protected, and I hope that you will grant him that wish." Clark Kent gave Dick Grayson a hug, and walked away.   
  
That night, a shadow was once again roaming the rooftops of Gotham City. Lightning flashed across the sky, brightening up the dark night skies of Gotham City for a moment, revealing a muscular, black suited man. He was dressed in a black cloak, a pointed cowl hiding his face and the symbol of a bat on his chest.  
  
Batman was the only thing keeping crime from overrunning this city. Launching his grappling hook, the new, younger Batman leapt off the roof, starting another chapter in the city of Gotham.   
  
The legacy of Batman would continue. Dick Grayson would make sure of that.


	9. Epilogue

**_Epilogue_**

If there was one thing Albert Wesker hated, it was boredom. And in the first week of his solitary confinement in the hardened walls of Arkham asylum, Wesker had been bored to death, waiting for his arm and leg to heal.   
  
The virus flowing in Wesker's blood and infecting his body did far more than toughen the man. he was stronger, faster, and much more durable, yes, but that wasn't the only advantage. His wounds healed fast, very fast. Within a week, his broken limbs were fully mended.   
  
Unfortunately, the virus did him little good, for inside these dark, hardened prison walls, even Wesker could not escape.   
  
But then again, he thought, there was more to Albert Wesker than mere brute strength. There was, after all, a malicious cunning, the inventively evil cleverness that had so manipulated the S.T.A.R.S. in the Spenser mansion, and the genius of using Barry Burton's own family to get the man to help him....Wesker was as smart and cunning as he was strong.   
  
And of course, a cunning man always allied with the strongest benefactor.   
  
Thus, Wesker wasn't surprised when he heard word of a prison transfer. He wasn't alarmed when the guards at Arkham led him out of his prison in unbreakable chains, through dozens of fully armed and armored men, to a heavily fortified truck that led him off the grounds.   
  
It was many hours later that the truck stopped inside a garage. Wesker watched the doors open. Outside, he saw lines of assembled soldiers, fully armed and weapons ready. Directly in front of the truck's rear doors, however, stood a man in an officer's uniform, his collar shining with rank and his chest heavy with medals.   
  
Wesker stepped out, glanced around at the soldiers, and then nodded at the general.   
  
"General Wilkinson."   
  
"Captain Wesker," the general replied with a smile. "I apologize for the delay. We had to wait a bit or you to heal."   
  
"That's understandable, General," Wesker replied with a smile of his own. "I trust the samples arrived unharmed?"   
  
"They're in Nevada, being analyzed as we speak. Hopefully we'll be able to synthesize an anti-Tyrant weapon that is reliable. but, in the meantime, captain," the general said, gesturing to a helicopter waiting on a nearby helipad, "That Black Hawk is waiting to take us to Washington. the President wants to speak with you."   
  
"Of course he does. If you'll lead the way, General?" Wesker asked, and the two headed for the helicopter, and Wesker's next mission for the President of the United States of America.


End file.
